


The Tryst

by Aequoria



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Immortal Souls in Love, Immortality, Romance, Vignette, liminal spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aequoria/pseuds/Aequoria
Summary: Despite everything, Ardyn holds on to the one good thing he has left.(Where time and space hold no meaning, even immortals can dream.)
Relationships: Aera Mirus Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	The Tryst

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily inspired by The Tryst, a Scots poem by William Soutar, and its subsequent adaptation into what is now Scots Song by Sir James MacMillan. I heard a recording of my friend singing Scots Song and it’s hauntingly beautiful! It was so perfect for Aera and Ardyn, I had to do this.

_O luely, luely, cam she in_  
_And luely she lay doun:_  
_I kent her be her caller lips_  
_And her breists sae sma’ and roun’._

_A’ thru the nicht we spak nae word_  
_Nor sinder’d bane frae bane:_  
_A’ thru the nicht I heard her hert_  
_Gang soundin’ wi’ my ain._

**-an excerpt from The Tryst by William Soutar**

It is said that time is the great bringer of change.

Those that exist in time, therefore, must experience change. A human will grow, will dream, will know hunger and satisfaction, will feel joy and sorrow, will be generous in one moment and cruel in the next. Time is the shackle that binds a soul to its earthly shell and makes it a servant to its fickle needs.

Ardyn Lucis Caelum does not exist in time. He could not change even if he desired so. He could not dream or hope or grow as the rest of the world can. His memories cannot fade. Trapped in unceasing constancy, he is a slave to his own bitterness and rage, unable to move on from the state he was in when his curse took hold.

But it is also said that there are places where the magic of the world concentrates in great pools. Not the magic of the Crystal, nor of the Oracle, nor even of the Astrals— but the deep and ancient magics of Eos. It is said there are places where the waves of magic that run through the world meet, and everything is, for a moment, out of phase with time.

And there, Ardyn can dream.

He hears of such a place on his way from Cartanica to Succarpe. The locations vary, depending on the ebb and flow of the deep magics, but he knows how to read the signs. The locals say ghosts live in the mists of the forest, that animals don’t come near. There is an evergreen tree that goes against its nature, which shed needles in the spring and grows them now in the winter. There is a flowering tree out of season, whose blossoms never dropped, whose petals never so much as flutter in the wind.

Out of phase. Out of time.

He steps on the gas and _drives._

* * *

Truly great concentrations of ancient power can be sensed even by those not sensitive to the movements of magic. When Ardyn steps into the area, it is positively _electric_. His hair stands on end, his skin prickles, and something in his changeless being _trembles_.

He closes his eyes and takes a true breath for the first time in a century.

When he opens them again, she is there.

Aera raises her hand and he takes it gently. Then, as though a dam has been broken, they embrace with a desperate need.

Changeless being meets changeless being, one of Darkness and one of Light, but still the same at their core. The dead do not exist in time and space, but in this blurring of lines, in this meeting of waves, even immovable things can, glacier-like, creep steadily on.

How low are brought these immortal beings! who, bound to neither time nor space, covet so greedily this fragile moment that they dare not speak for fear of breaking the magic.

But it is enough that he can feel her body against him: her breath, her warmth, her soft curves and sharp edges. She feels like the only real thing in the world.

He only hopes she feels the same.

His heart is lighter than it’s been in a hundred years. In here, he’s able to push past the rage he’s been trapped with, and see things clearly again. He wishes she could tell him what she feels. He wants to know if she can be happy here too.

They lie in the grass and press close together. He touches his forehead to hers; she smiles and holds his hand.

 _I love you,_ he thinks, as he always has. That is a constant he will never resent.

She mouths the words silently back, and it’s like he’s a young man again, giddy with love.

It may be days that they spend like this, or mere minutes— it would feel the same in a place like this. She traces forgiveness with her fingers and presses mercy on his lips. He chases it all like a starving man, and in return hopes his own touch can convey what he want to say.

_I’m sorry._

_Wait for me._

_I’ll be home soon._

* * *

When the magic finally ebbs, as it inevitably must, Aera disappears along with it. Ardyn sinks again into his own darkness, clutching on to the vision of her last, wistful smile.

A being who does not exist in time cannot change. They cannot dream or wish or grow, they cannot escape the role they have been given to play.

But sometimes, if the conditions are met, even the changeless can be ever so slightly altered. In some rare, fragile, _precious_ moments, even a hopeless man can hope.

Ardyn gets back into his car, whistling a victory tune, and holds on tight to that promise.

_It was about the waukrife hour_  
_When cocks begin to craw_  
_That she smool’d saftly thru the mirk_  
_Afore the day wud daw._

_Sae luely, luely, cam she in_  
_Saie luely was she gaen;_  
_And wi’ her a’ my simmer days_  
_Like they had never been._

**-an excerpt from The Tryst by William Soutar**

**Author's Note:**

> I’m super embarrassed about this ahhh but I really want to share Scots Song with you! I recorded my version of it on my Soundcloud here: https://soundcloud.com/pufflebug/scots-song
> 
> The words are from The Tryst poem so already in the fic. Hope the singing’s not too terrible!


End file.
